Mr Masters: Chapter 24

I wake to my body trembling, my orgasm close. The light of dawn is peeking through the side of my drapes. My legs are open, I’m naked, and Julian is eating his breakfast.

He does this often—wakes me up with an orgasm. My alarm clock is his tongue, and I am the luckiest bitch on the planet. My hands drop to the back of his head. “Good morning, Mr. Masters.” I smile as I run my fingers through his hair.

“Good morning, my beautiful Bree,” he whispers before he kisses my inner thigh. He spreads me open with his fingers and continues to suck.

God, he loves this, I’ve never been with a man who gives oral just because he craves it so much.

This is Julian’s favorite thing, which means I’ve died and gone to Heaven.

Knowing that I’m the only woman he’s ever loved and the only woman who he has had a real relationship with has taken our relationship to a higher level. It’s as if nobody else came before me. He looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world.

He pushes my legs back to the mattress and slides two fingers in, making my back arch off the bed. I smile sleepily, knowing he’s warming my body up to take his.

It turns out I’m in love with a sex maniac.

He fucks me every morning before he goes to work, and then he makes gentle love to me every single night. I get the best of both worlds. He’s never had this, a body to call his own to do what he wants with, whenever he wants.

Maybe one day he’ll tire of sex, but at this moment, my body is his absolute favorite thing and he worships every inch of it.

He rides me hard with his hand and I linger somewhere between awake and asleep. The morning light drifts through the crack in the drapes and I smile to myself. How many mornings have I watched the sunrise with the feeling of intense pleasure between my legs?

He rises, leaning over me, and I can see the glimmer of my arousal on his lips as he looks down at me.

“How do you want me this morning, Mr. Masters?” I whisper.

He lifts both my legs over his shoulders, and then he slides in deep as his eyes hold mine. “I can feel every muscle inside of you,” he whispers.

I take his face in my hands, rolling my lips as I watch him.

He spreads his knees to get better leverage and I close my eyes to try deal with him. It’s so deep like this. He’s so focused on what he needs from my body. He starts to pump me with slow, deep, hard hits and I can feel the muscles in his behind contracting as he flexes. My head falls back onto the pillows.

“Oh God,” I whimper. “So good.”

“You like that?” He turns his head and kisses my ankle.

I nod as I watch him, seeing his beautiful face in between my feet. It’s one hell of a wake-up call.

“What’s my girl doing today?” he grinds out as he continues to ride me slowly.

“Hmm,” I sigh. Fuck, who cares? This day is already perfect.

“Fuck, yeah. That feels so good.” His eyes close as he starts to work his own orgasm into a frenzy, and he picks up the pace. His eyes darken and he hits me hard. “I just love fucking you.”

I smile, knowing what’s coming. Here he goes. He can only be gentle for so long before he starts to lose control.

His arms straightened and I can see every muscle flexing in his chest as he holds himself up.

My body begins to contract, and I grab his arms. “Oh God,” I whimper. “Fuck me.” I turn my head and kiss his wrist next to my head. “Give it to me, baby.”

He hisses and starts to pound me. My sex clenches around him and I scrunch my face up to stop myself from crying out.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He lurches forward and holds himself deep inside me. I feel his cock jerk as he ejaculates.

Then his lips take mine and he slowly lowers my legs. Our kiss is tender and beautiful, and I swear, it’s the reason I was born.

I’m so in love with this man, I can’t even see straight. I cling to him.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He smiles against my face. “I love you more.”

Ding dong.

The doorbell rings.

Tillie tries to grab the laces out of my shoes as I walk to the door. “Tillie, cut it out,” I scold her.

I open the door to find a delivery driver standing in front of me with the hugest bunch of red roses I’ve ever seen.

“Delivery for Miss Brielle Johnston?”

I grin. “That’s me.” I dance on the spot and take them from him. “Thank you.”

I close the door and walk into the kitchen to lay them down on the table. The buds are huge and a deep red. Their perfume is strong and beautiful.

I open the small card.

Twelve weeks today since I told you I love you.

The happiest twelve weeks of my life.

I still love you.

Julian

xx

I smile goofily as my eyes fill with tears. This man makes me weak at the knees. I take out my phone and text him, even though I know he’s in court and can’t speak.

Look at you getting sentimental.

I loved you long before that.

Thank you for my flowers.

Hurry home

xoxox

“Would you like to dance?” my sexy date asks me from across the table.

I smile. “You know I would.”

It’s Saturday night, and Julian and I have the luxury of being out. Sammy is sleeping at his friend’s house and Willow is at dinner and the movies with Lola. We’re in a cocktail bar and lately, we’ve found a penchant for dancing. Julian stands, taking my hand in his to lead me to the dance floor. I put my arms around his neck. ‘Thank you.’ I smile up at him.

“For what?” His hands drop to my behind.

“Can you put your hands back on my waist, please?” I smirk. “There are other people here, you know.”

He widens his eyes and places his hands back up to a respectable level. “That better?”

“Not really.”

“Thank you for what, Bree?” he repeats.

“For showing me what it feels like.”

He frowns down at me, clearly puzzled.

“To be loved wholeheartedly.”

He chuckles and spins me around. “I think you mean wholedickedly.”

I giggle. “That, too.” Our lips touch. He glances up and his face falls, making him step back from me immediately.

“What?” I frown as I look around.

“My parents are here.”

“So?”

“So… we can’t be on a fucking date,” he whispers, dragging me to the back of the restaurant.

“They’re going to have to find out about us eventually.” I frown.

“No, they’re not,” he whispers angrily, pulling me toward the exit.

What?

He drags me from the restaurant and out to the car, not forgetting to open my door for me.

“I didn’t want to go.” I pout, annoyed.

“Well, we had to.” He pushes me into the car, closes the door, runs to his side in a rush and gets in.

“Why?”

“I don’t want anyone to know about us.” He starts the car.

“Why?” I frown over at him. “Are you ashamed of me?”

He scowls as if the very thought is ridiculous. “No, I’m not ashamed of you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I snap.

“I don’t want us to be a thing.”

I glare at him as he drives. “Newsflash: we are a thing.”

He glances at me, annoyed.

“You don’t have a problem with us being a thing every morning with your dick out, do you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop being so crude.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Crude?”

“Yes, crude.”

“What’s the problem with people knowing about us?”

“I just want to keep you to myself.”

“For how long?”

He shrugs.

I watch him as he drives. “Julian we’ve been together for months now. We’re in love. I want to tell the children.”

His face pales, his eyes widening. “We are not telling the children. No way in hell!”

“Why not?”

“Because they will only get excited and think we’re getting married.”

My brain tries to catch up with what he just said. “Where exactly do you see this relationship going, Julian?”

His eyes find mine. “Don’t start.”

“Don’t start?” I shake my head. “What do you fucking mean, don’t start?”

“It means I’m not having this conversation.”

“So, that’s it? As far as you’re concerned we’re just going to keep going on like this?”

“Like what?” he snaps.

“Sneaking around.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

Oh, my God. I shake my head and stare out the front windscreen.

“What do you have in that head of yours, Bree?” he huffs.

My face falls and my anger begins to simmer. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a future with a man who is actually proud to be seen with me.”

“Don’t start that fucking shit.” He sneers. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Fucking shit?” I repeat. “I don’t know what part of ‘I love you’ you don’t understand, but I want to be with a man who one day has plans to maybe marry me.”

He looks at me like I’ve gone completely mad. “I’m not marrying again. No way in hell am I ever getting married again, Brielle. Get that shit out of your head right fucking now.” He grips the steering wheel and shakes his head. “So if that’s what you want from a man, we should probably end it.”

“What?” I gasp. I watch him for a moment as he grips the steering wheel with white-knuckle force.

“I am not going to be fucking controlled again with a wedding ring!” he yells.

My mouth falls open in shock. He’s actually serious. “What about children?” I ask, feeling my blood run cold. “Do you want more children?”

“I’m thirty-nine, Brielle.”

“So?”

“I’m not having any more children. I’m too old.”

My eyes instantly fill with tears. “Then what are we doing here?” I cry. “I thought we were in love?”

He falls silent and stares at the road. “And I thought you were happy with simply having me,” he says flatly.

“I am happy with you, but what about my needs? I’m twenty-six. I’ve never been married and I want my own children.” I put my hands up to my chest. “I want your children and my children.”

He inhales deeply, not saying another word. Julian keeps his eyes on the road and we drive home in silence.

When he parks the car, I get out and slam the door shut before I march inside. Willow and Lola are sitting on the sofa watching television. “Hello.” I smile as I walk past them. “I’m beat. Going to bed.”

I hear Julian put the keys down on the bench in the foyer as he walks in behind me. “Hi, Dad,” Willow calls. “What’s wrong with Brell?”

“I don’t know. I just picked her up on my way through. She was out with Emerson.”

I close my eyes in disgust and walk into my bedroom.

What a gutless wonder.

It’s 2:00 a.m. when I feel my bed dip and Julian climb in behind me. I pretend I’m asleep. I don’t want to talk to him. He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my hair.

“I can’t sleep without you, baby,” he whispers.

I close my eyes. If I open my mouth now we’re only going to fall into a huge screaming match. Maybe he just needs time to get his head around everything.

I suppose we’ve never had this conversation before. I just assumed that he knew I would want these things. I lie in the dark for a while, thinking. Maybe if I just let it lie for a while he could come around to the idea. I roll over and face him.

We stare at each other in the darkness.

“I’m not Alina, Julian.”

“I know.” He pulls me to him. “I never loved her.”

My eyes fill with tears. “Yet she got to be your wife and have your children,” I whisper.

He holds me tight and kisses my forehead. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, babe.”

I close my eyes against his shoulder, and I know this conversation is far from over. “Me neither.”

I’m sitting at the bar in a pub with Sebastian and Spencer. We’re twenty-two years old, and it’s the morning of my wedding. Dressed in our suits, we’re ready for the church, but the mood is somber. They’re trying to comfort me the best they can.

I’m devastated about what I’m about to do—for the way I fucked up everything.

If I were going to prison for life, I would be happier than I am right now.

I stare at a small droplet of beer that has spilt next to a coaster, and I release a shaky breath.

“Did you organize a honeymoon?” Spencer asks softly.

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Scotland.”

“How long are you going for?”

“A week.” I sip my beer.

We all stay silent and stare straight ahead.

“Any luck, she’ll fuck a Scotsman and ask you for a divorce,” Seb offers.

I nod without emotion, and I close my eyes in regret. Another wave of nausea rolls through me. I’ve been throwing up all morning.

“Don’t do this, Masters,” Spencer begs. “This is the worst fucking decision you’ll ever make.” Seb and he exchange looks. “She trapped you, man. She’s after money. Just give it to her. Give her fucking all of it.”

My eyes rise to meet his. We’ve had this conversation a million times. Even my parents have begged me not to go through with it.

“I’m not letting another man bring up my child,” I tell them sadly.

“So, you’re sacrificing your whole fucking life for a baby that you don’t even know?” Spence snaps in disgust.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I can stand next to you and watch you do this,” Seb says, his voice monotone.

I get a lump in my throat. “That’s okay. You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want.”.

The driver arrives at the front door of the pub. “We need to get going for the church or we’ll be late,” he says.

I nod, watching as he disappears out the door.

My heart begins to hammer in my chest.

“Let’s just fuck off,” Spencer splutters, his panic rising. “We can go to the states. Yeah. We’ll live there and you can send her money.” He shakes his head. “Just don’t fucking do this, Masters.”

I drag myself off the stool

Beep, beep.

I’m snapped back to the present by the car honking its horn behind me. I look up to see the traffic lights have now turned red, meaning I’ve completely missed them.

I’m on my way to work. The horror of my younger life has been playing heavily on my mind this week. It’s as if I’m back there, dealing with it all over again.

The lights change, and I click into first gear to floor it.

I can’t go back there again.

Not now. Not ever.

I’m sitting on the sofa as the movie plays on the television. It’s Thursday night—date night—but we’re home. I didn’t get my email invitation this week and that hurt. Sammy is snuggled up beside me while Will is lying on the floor. Julian is sitting in his wingback chair with his book, uninterested in what we are doing.

It’s been a week since we had our fight about marriage and babies, and we haven’t discussed it since. I’m too scared to bring the subject up.

Julian has pulled away from me; the force field is back up. His heart is locked safely back into the freezer, never to be defrosted. I know he’s scared, terrified that he’s going to be trapped in a loveless marriage again.

But that marriage would be to me, and it hurts that he doesn’t trust me enough to let himself fall.

Maybe he will. Maybe he will come to me any day now, and the two of us can sit and openly talk about it. He can explain why he feels the way he does. But until he does, there’s a huge elephant in the room, in our bed, everywhere between us.

“I’m going out with the boys tomorrow night straight from work,” he says quietly as he continues to read his book.

I turn and watch him until he looks up at me, and I raise a brow in question.

“Mother will have the children, so you can go out if you wish.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

His eyes hold mine. I just want to scream and call him a coward, but I’ll only push him further away.

“I won’t be late,” he says after a moment.

I nod and turn back to the television. The lump in my throat hurts again as I try to hold in my tears. I can’t stand this. Screaming, yelling, or anything would be better than this.

My mind goes to Alina. Is this what she dealt with? The silent treatment?

While he fucked prostitutes on the side.

Stop it.

I close my eyes in disgust. Stop thinking about her. This is different. He loves me. He wouldn’t do that to me, I know he wouldn’t.

Would he?

I kiss Sammy on the head. “I’m going to bed, baby.” I stand. “Goodnight, Will,” I say.

Julian doesn’t say anything.

“Night, Brell,” Will and Sammy call.

I walk into my room, get into the shower, and I cry.

I can’t stop thinking about Alina and worrying that we’re falling into that same pattern. He’s hardly touched me in a week, and we haven’t made love once.

He’s pulled away from me without any regret.

I scrunch my eyes together and let the tears roll down my face. My heart feels like it’s being torn out of my body in slow motion.

Maybe my fairy tale is already over.

“Come on,” I laugh as I run about outside with Tillie at the end of the driveway. It’s 4:00 p.m. and Willow is still at work while Sammy is at his little friend’s until later tonight, after dinner.

Julian came to my bed last night, and we made love. Well, not really. We basically fucked with no emotion attached to it. But I felt like he was sad, too. We laid in silence after we were finished, clinging to each other, as if hoping the other one would take back what they said last week.

I can’t take mine back because it’s true, I do want children. I may not be gifted them by God’s hand, but I want to at least try. I can live without marriage, but motherhood… not so much.

The mailman pulls up and I smile and wave as he hands me the letters.

“How are you today?” he asks me.

“Fine, thanks.” I smile. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“It is, it is. See you later.”

“Come on, Tillie.” I begin to walk back to the house as I flick through the envelopes. Boring, boring, boring. I come to a letter in cream paper.

Julian Masters

I turn the letter over to see who the sender is.

Dr Edwards

Rosedale Clinic

Hmm, I wonder what that is? I continue to look at the letter as I walk back up to the house. I stop to take out my phone and I google Dr. Edwards, Rosedale Clinic.

Dr Edwards is the leading vasectomy specialist in London.

My heart roars, racing wildly in my chest.

No. He wouldn’t?

I run back to the house with the letter in my hand. I put it onto the kitchen bench and stare at it.

My blood is pumping hard through my body as I begin to pace. Why is he getting a letter from this doctor? For fifteen minutes, I stare at it until curiosity gets the best of me and I tear open the envelope.

The words go blurry as tears fill my eyes, and I put my hand over my mouth.

He’s going to have a vasectomy without telling me.

I stagger back in shock.

Oh… this hurts.

I grab the car keys, and I get in the car and with the letter in my hand. There’s no thought as I tear down the driveway.

He wants a fight. He just fucking got one.